


All the broken pieces fall into place

by FancifulRivers



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Depression, Gender-Neutral Chara, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Past No Mercy Route, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mostly Platonic Charisk, Other, Pacifist Route, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Queerplatonic Relationships, Save these precious children, Soft Chara, Spoilers - Undertale Pacifist Route, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 15:39:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6962872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancifulRivers/pseuds/FancifulRivers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, a child called Frisk climbed a mountain where everybody disappeared.</p>
<p>Who says they stopped wanting to disappear?</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the broken pieces fall into place

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still writing my other story (the one I keep updating like twice a day oops), but this one won't leave my head, so I thought I should at least attempt to write the first chapter or so.
> 
> It's very AU and very Pain. Also seriously, I said it a million times in the tags, but suicide warning!

You wake up, aching all over. Far above you, you can see the glint of what might be sunlight. You roll your head, trying to figure out your surroundings. Golden flowers cradle you.

Disappointment crushes you into the dirt.

It's not  _fair,_ you think, tentatively patting yourself all over. Your head's bleeding a little, your bottom lip is twice its size, and you think your ankle might be broken. But despite that, you're remarkably okay for a fall that  _should have killed you._

And why didn't it? You scowl at the maybe-sun in the ceiling. This is  _bullshit_. You hadn't planned on falling down a hole. Truthfully, you had thought maybe you could die of exposure instead. Or a wild animal. There had to be  _something_ to the rumors, right? Why else would people in town always say that people who came to Mt. Ebott never returned?

You lever yourself into a sitting position, wincing at the pain in your back, and look around. You don't  _see_ any bones. You'd see something, wouldn't you? Bones last a long time. Maybe you're the only one who fell down a  _hole_ of all things.

It doesn't matter, you decide, scrambling to your feet. It doesn't matter at all. Even if you are underground. You'll just find  _another_ way to kill yourself. You feel...determined.

As you limp toward the only exit you can see, you don't notice the flowers where you fell glowing for a brief moment, or the red film that settles on your shoulder.

* * *

Flowey is an asshole, you decide as this new monster, the one who looks like a red-eyed goat, leads you away. You're not really angry that he tricked you. His motto is one that you've adopted off and on over the years yourself. No, you're angry because he's a  _tease_. If he can pelt your...your SOUL (and that's a really weird concept to think about, you always thought the human soul was just a metaphor, not that it was literally like a big red glowing heart that could be yanked out of your chest) with "friendliness pellets," then he could have obviously ended your misery much sooner.

And instead he got scared off by this monster who can shoot fire! Toriel, she said her name was. 

_Mom,_ you seem to hear, like a very faded whisper. You shake your head. That was weird. You don't have a mother. Not anymore.

Your mother is dead. And you? You might as well have killed her.

You don't realize you're crying until Toriel's wiping your eyes with her sleeve. She thinks you're homesick. You don't correct her.

* * *

It's kind of nice, wherever this is. You learn how to do puzzles. You used to like puzzles, before your mind went to shit. You eat pie. Toriel tells you snail facts. You have your own room, with a bed and a toy chest. You don't play very much. You think you've forgotten how.

You want to leave.

You're still determined to pursue your own destruction (and how does that work? You have no idea, but you don't particularly care) and you can't find it here. Something in the back of your mind tickles, telling you that you can be safe here, you can stop, but you ignore it. You're never safe. You weren't safe at your parents' house, and you weren't safe at the group home.

There's nothing for people like you.

Of course you have to fight her.

You don't want to fight her. You don't want her to kill you either, and the thought is very- strange. Maybe it's different, you rationalize as you dodge another fireball. It's different if someone else is killing you versus you doing it yourself. That has to be it.

Your pockets are full of pie and cutlery you stole from her kitchen when she finally lets you pass. She tells you that you can't come back and you only nod. The tears on your face sting when the door opens and you're exposed to the world of whiteness beyond. You don't even know why you're crying. It's the same as all the rest. There's nobody for you and there never has been.

_Mom,_ a voice says plaintively, carried on the wind, and you frown, stopping to save. You don't know what that is, or how you know how to do it, but..something tells you. You walk on, a small figure in a striped sweater and a backpack banging between your shoulders.

Now you really are alone.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
